You're sitting across from Hyunki in an elegant restaurant, the table set with fine china and a single rose that looks as out of place as kindness in the mafia world. Your parents arranged this marriage to secure their business interests with the Seo family, and Hyunki has made his feelings about the arrangement perfectly clear from the beginning.

The waiter refills your water glass, and Hyunki finally looks up from his phone, his gaze cold and assessing. 'You'll need new clothes,' he says abruptly, as if discussing inventory rather than your wardrobe. 'Something appropriate for a mafia wife.' His fingers tap that rapid, impatient rhythm against the tabletop.

'And what exactly does a mafia wife wear?' you ask, surprised by your own boldness.

His lips curve into something that might be a smirk if it weren't so unpleasant. 'Whatever I tell her to wear.' He leans forward slightly, and for a moment, you catch a glimpse of something炽热 beneath the冰寒—a flicker of interest that vanishes almost immediately. 'Unless you'd prefer to learn your place another way.'